Cheese and Other Drugs
by WrittenSword
Summary: Pot brownies and cheese dip. Miranda/Andrea femslash.


This was a prompt for a crack!fic over at the DWP LJ community. It had to have pot brownies and Emily making out with nacho cheese. ^_^

**Warning: **_Accidental use of soft drugs.  
_**Pairings: **Andy/Miranda; Emily/Serena; (Emily/Cheese)  
**Summary: **Pot brownies and cheese dip. Oh and btw, Andy didn't leave in Paris.

**Disclaimer: **The Devil Wears Prada does not belong to me. I just play around with that universe and its characters for pure, appreciative fangirl purposes! :-)

**A/N:** I do not condone the use of any kind of drugs! No matter how funny this story may seem, I think pot heads are lame and lacking in their own, free-flowing brilliance. :-P

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* * *

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**Cheese and Other Drugs  
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"Ha, Six, I dare you to do that here." Nigel peeked over his spectacles down to where Andy sat behind her desk, amusement shining through his tired gaze.

"Yeah right... and get my ass fired!" She shot back with a slightly maniacal chuckle while trying to focus on her computer screen and triple-checking the following day's schedule. It was past nine on the end of a long Thursday and although she welcomed the distraction of a friendly chat with Nigel, she was a bit too exhausted to have a truly hearty laugh with the bald man.

"Okay... drinks on me for two months if you do it." He perched his hands on his hips and narrowed his eyes in challenge. "If you get _her_ to eat one, I'll throw in the pair of Manolos you've been dry-humping in The Closet since they've come in last week."

The stakes were high, and Andy looked up from her keyboard to her colleague. The newest pair of four-inch beauties by Manolo Blahnik were worth over two-thousand dollars, and now that she understood fashion, and had even developed a sense of personal style, she knew those shoes were made for her. She _had_ to have them. If all it took was to bake a batch of birthday brownies, smuggle them into the _Runway_ offices, and have her boss eat a piece, Andy was game.

Sure there were risks. Bringing carb-bombs into the vicinity of the starved, size-zero employees of the fashion magazine was certainly not without danger. Breaking the no-food rule and attempting ways to get the _Queen of Fashion_ herself to even try a bite was definitely way past bordering suicidal. However there were the shoes to consider, and the part of Andy which had always enjoyed bringing homemade, baked goods on her special day, to share with fellow students and friends, was rather thrilled at the aspect of continuing this tradition at her workplace.

"Alright," she extended her hand. "We have a deal."

* * *

It was quarter past eleven when Andy finally arrived at her apartment. Well, technically it was still Nate's place, but he was moving out the coming weekend. After her return from Paris they had agreed that a long-distance relationship, with him taking the job offer in Boston, wasn't worth the shot, and they'd rather part as something resembling friends, than alienate even further by forcing things that simply weren't meant to be.

Her ex was slouching on the couch - his bed these days - and watching another excruciatingly boring program on the Food Network. Andy certainly would not miss the smell of delicious food that always lingered around the cook, nor the background noise of people competing against each other in studio kitchens on TV. Working at a place where being a size four still got you called "fat" had more or less killed her appetite demons. She still enjoyed food, but in smaller portions, and most importantly, of the greener and less sugary, or fatty variety.

"Hey," Andy greeted Nate while depositing the grocery bag on the kitchen counter. He raised an arm in acknowledgement and eyed the bag of ingredients.

"Oh good, you got food."

Before he could even stand from the couch, Andy threw herself between him and the kitchen.

"Don't even think about it. I need everything in there for my brownies."

He slowly rose from the seat with his hands innocently waving in the air and raised his bushy brows in question. "Easy there, Tiger. I won't touch a thing." He padded over. "Why are you making brownies? You haven't baked since college..."

Andy wasn't sure whether he was joking, but a look at his semi-curious face confirmed that he truly had forgotten that it was her birthday in less than an hour. Granted they had broken up a month ago, but it still hurt that he wouldn't even get the hint at the mention of her traditional birthday bake.

"I'm bringing them to work tomorrow." She fetched her own, barely used apron, and tied it over her Chanel skirt and blouse. Changing out of her clothes would only take more time and she was ready to fall into bed. The prospect of the magical Manolos, and maybe the faint apprehension of trying to get Miranda to eat something she had baked, were the only things keeping her going.

"Won't the Dragon Lady fillet you alive?" He snorted as he nosily prodded the pack of organic eggs.

Andy just shrugged and retrieved one of the few bowls Nate hadn't already packed and shipped to his new place in Boston.

"Nigel dared me." She set the oven to preheat and pulled out a tray. "Plus, it's tradition."

That finally got the cogs in his head turning and he looked at her a bit embarrassed.

"Oh. Right."

He pulled a rather pained grin and then trotted back to the couch and "The Battle of the Chefs".

Making these brownies was something that had always enveloped Andy in a feeling of home, even in her days at university. It was part of her nature to treat the people around her, instead of expecting to be treated on her birthday. Of course her friends and family had still always spoiled her, but Andy enjoyed giving back just as much.

She mixed all of the dry ingredients and began melting the seven-dollar-fifty bar of confectionery chocolate. Only the best for the people who would likely scrunch up their noses and rain down looks of disdain on her. While she stirred, Andy tried to pin down the source of giddiness that had been present since the idea of making these brownies had infested her mind. It wasn't like anyone at _Runway_ was truly her friend - safe for Nigel maybe - and they certainly would not appreciate homemade brownies.

Then why was there this warm glow of positive anticipation? Andy was supposed to be terrified of even the idea of bringing these treats to work, let alone trying to offer one to Miranda. At the thought of the editor-in-chief the buzz in the pit of her stomach intensified, and she couldn't help the smile that bubbled to the surface. The sole purpose of this brownie tradition was to create something for the people she cared about. And yes, she knew she cared a great deal about her boss.

The moment in Paris when Miranda had opened up to Andy had established a certain bond, and although it was most likely a one-way street, she couldn't ignore the kinship she felt for the older woman. It certainly made her job a lot easier, understanding and accepting the fact that her efficiency would not just reflect well on her resume, but actually make Miranda's life a little bit easier.

Andy no longer regarded the Fashion maven as an unfeeling, god-like entity whom she had to serve in exchange for a meager pay-check and glorious future prospects, but somewhere along the road, she had come to view her as a genius and a passionate woman and mother, who simply expected the very best from everything and everyone around her in order to achieve perfection.

Thinking of Miranda, coupled with the exhaustion-induced failure to properly coordinate her limbs, Andy spilled some of the melted chocolate onto the sleeve of her blouse.

"Shit, shit, shit..."

Leaving stains on _borrowed_ couture was definitely _not_ going to make anybody's life easier.

"Nate, can you please stir this and then mix it in with the rest? I need to try and get this out."

To her relief he actually came over and took the wooden spoon from her grasp, and she mumbled her thanks as she rushed into the bathroom, taking her blouse off in the process.

Luckily she managed to get most of it out and left the rest to soak in dry cleaning solvent, before changing into sweats and returning to the kitchen.

Her ex-boyfriend had already finished mixing the chocolate and eggs into the batter and had poured the mixture onto the tray.

"Thanks Nate. I appreciate it." She said genuinely thankful, and then bent down to shove the tray into the oven.

Fifteen more minutes and she'd finally be able to get some sleep...

* * *

Smuggling the brownies into the building the next day had been very easy - not that anyone would have actually checked, or stopped her; it was still only food - and Andy was busy setting them up on a plate in the office kitchen when Nigel slithered up behind her.

"Wow, Six. I'm very impressed! You certainly earned your free drinks."

She turned to grin at him and he took the chance to draw her into a hug.

"Happy birthday, Darling!"

He then pulled away and handed her a gift wrapped in silver paper.

"Aw, Nigel, you didn't have to do this..."

He held up his hands. "But I wanted to. Go on. Unwrap it before anyone sees me being nice to the girl who brought _poison_ to these holy grounds."

They shared a chuckle and the brunette quickly uncovered a beautiful, dark brown leather notebook.

"Oh wow, Nigel... this must have cost a fortune!"

"Don't talk money, Darling. Just accept it." He smiled warmly. "This isn't for work, by the way. This is for the ominous novel you've been wanting to write."

Andy leaned forward for another hug.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

He grinned.

"I expect to be mentioned when your first book is published."

He looked over her shoulder at the pile of brownies.

"I must say they look enticing."

"Please have one," Andy offered but he held up his hands in defense.

"It may be your birthday, Honey, but I'm not doing you the pleasure of seeing me get dressed-down by Miranda for straying from _the path._"

They giggled again and Andy walked to her desk to stash away her present as Emily walked in with a cardboard tray of Starbucks coffee.

"Why are you two so cheerful this morning?" The redhead barked. "Miranda will be here in two minutes, so stop chuckling like a pair of demented elves and get ready."

Nigel made a face at Andy and whispered, "well someone is in a _fantastic_ mood this morning," before making his escape back to his own office.

The brunette grinned after him, but she knew that Emily was having a hard time, condemned to share the post of first assistant with Andy since just before Paris. Impossible as it may have sounded, the redhead looked even skinnier than she had on her diet of three cubes of cheese per day, and the empathic human being inside Andy truly worried about the other woman.

She watched as Emily prepared Miranda's desk, pouring a fresh glass of water and aligning the morning papers and weekly magazines. When she returned to the outer office, a hurried look on her face, Andy couldn't help her caring nature from breaking through.

"Hey, Emily, would you like a brownie? I made them myself."

She held up the plate and offered the treats together with a blinding smile.

A razor sharp glare that could rival Miranda's very best was thrown in her direction and Emily cocked her head in a way that always heralded the coming of a very biting and likely hurtful remark.

"I would rather die than eat anything you made!" She then gazed at the brownies, and for a moment Andy was certain she saw a look of longing in those bright blue eyes. It quickly disappeared.

"I can't wait for Miranda to see what you've brought into the office. She will surely kill you this time."

Andy didn't like the nasty grin full of anticipated schadenfreude that stretched itself across the redhead's lips and part of her confidence began to dwindle.

What was she doing, bringing snacks to the office and then offering them, all out in the open? She had made such wonderful progress over the past ten months, establishing maybe not respect, but a kind of tolerance from her co-workers. Why was she so ready to throw all that away, by listening to this feeling inside her belly that made her do nice things for Miranda.

"She won't kill me, Emily." She said more to convince herself. She looked down at the plate of brownies in her hands and nervously chewed on her bottom lip.

"It's my birthday... I wanted to do something nice for everyone at the office..."

"Oh my god, you didn't actually think about offering one to Miranda..." Emily said rather loudly as she stretched her neck forward in disbelief.

"Miranda would _never_ do that!"

"Do what?"

The calm, low voice of the editor froze both assistants, and Andy looked up in terror and took in Miranda in her white Bill Blass blouse and red pencil skirt, staring at the pair of them with a completely blank expression.

"Uhm..." the brunette suddenly couldn't find the words. Gone was all her courage and she glanced back down on her stack of brownies, damning Nigel and those beautiful Manolos.

"Andrea came up with the brilliant plan of infesting the office with pathetic, homemade carbs..." Emily said, half-laughing as she sought out their boss' eyes for signs of approval. "She was even going to ask you to try one..."

"Is that so?"

Andy felt Miranda's gaze burn through her clothes and skin, right into her chest and she knew that any second now she'd be fired, or at the very least demoted back to second assistant. She could only nod, there was no point in denying it. Gathering whatever ounce of dignity she still possessed she looked back up and offered the plate.

"I used brown sugar, whole wheat and all organic ingredients."

Miranda pursed her lips and eyed the brownies and for a second Andy feared that the plate would melt through her hands. However the older woman then threw her coat and bag dismissively onto Emily's desk and stepped up to the brunette.

Twin gasps from the assistants filled the room when Miranda reached out and carefully took a small brownie piece from the plate, and staring intently at Andy, slowly raised it to her mouth. The brunette held her breath as her little chocolate creation disappeared behind delicate lips and the older woman began to chew. Andy stared on in fascination when the tip of Miranda's tongue peeked past lips that proceeded to ever so slightly pull into the ghost of a smile.

"Passable."

That was all Miranda said, and she turned to walk into her office, carrying the brownie with her and taking another bite as she slid into the chair behind her desk.

Stunned didn't even begin to cover how Andy felt. Of course the editor was known for being unpredictable at times, but this was really, really unusual. There was a faint tickle of realisation that she was now the proud new owner of the Manolo Blahnik shoes, but the other assistant's facial expression quickly pulled her back to present and she risked another attempt at getting Emily to eat.

"Would you like one as well?"

The redhead just stared at her blankly, unable to process what they had both just witnessed.

"For god's sake, Emily, have a brownie. It won't kill you," their boss said from her desk and with eyes wide as saucers the redhead reached up and grabbed a piece.

Andy wasn't really surprised that Emily so easily followed Miranda's commands, but it still pained her to watch how little backbone the redhead possessed. Unless of course, Emily had _wanted_ to have a brownie to begin with and had only awaited Miranda's approval. The brunette snorted inwardly. Of course not. That idea was preposterous.

"Oh my god. What are those?" A shocked Jocelyn called from the glass doors.

Fighting the urge to roll her eyes Andy offered up the baked goods. After an initial incredulous eye roll the blonde realised that Miranda was at her desk, chewing away on a brownie herself, and within seconds Andy found herself yet another piece lighter.

The news that Miranda had more or less instructed her staff to eat these treats spread like wildfire and after less than an hour Andy found herself with an empty plate in her hands and surrounded by slightly confused clackers, carefully nibbling at her brownies.

It was rather surreal and Andy wished she had brought a camera. In any case, it was a great start to her birthday. Not only did she not get fired and had won herself a sinful pair of shoes, she was also thoroughly enjoying the fact that Miranda, of all people, had accepted her offering, and had not only complemented it - in her own way - but also openly made her approval known.

"Andréa..." the editor's soft voice travelled from her office into the kitchen where Andy was just about to clean the dish.

Quickly wiping her hands on a towel, the brunette hurried into the inner office.

"Yes, Miranda?"

"Close the door."

Andy did as instructed and then waited in the middle of the older woman's room, ready for the daily list of instructions.

The editor rose from her chair and retrieved something from the drawer to her left, holding it behind her back. She then walked around her desk and stopped less than two feet away from Andy.

Miranda rarely ever allowed people to step into her personal space, especially not when having work-related conversations. Now, however, she stood so close that Andy could smell the intoxicating scent of the older woman's perfume, and it caused the brunette to feel incredibly self-conscious. Her heart nearly stopped when a strange, lazy smile settled on the editor's lips, causing the younger woman to gulp.

"Happy birthday, Andrea," Miranda practically drawled and she held out a narrow, red box.

"Huh?"

Andy could have slapped herself for her lack of eloquence. She was beginning to think that she was still asleep and her weird brownie day had not actually happened. Miranda's grin didn't help make matters any more reassuring and the assistant looked down at the object in the older woman's hand with utter confusion.

"It is your birthday, is it not?" The typical sharpness in her voice had made its return, but it was lacking and seemed to have trouble breaking through the smile that was still plastered across Miranda's face.

"Uhm, yes it is..."

"Then don't be silly, Andréa, and accept your present."

With shaky hands, and feeling increasingly naked under the intense gaze Miranda sent her way, Andy reached for the box and opened it.

She immediately recognized the Tiffany lettering on the silken inlay, and when her eyes fell on the delicate white gold chain and the deep red, drop-shaped stones she was convinced she was dreaming.

"Mir-Miranda... I can't accept this..."

"Don't you like it?" The older woman's voice sounded almost panicked and Andy had to blink several times to regain her ability to speak.

"Oh no, that's not it, Miranda. Not at all! It's beautiful..." She slowly traced the intricate design with the tips of her fingers. "I just cannot except something as costly as this... you're my boss... as much as I'd love to keep this... it wouldn't be right..."

It pained her to hand the jewellery box back to the editor and she watched with a sense of trepidation as Miranda's face fell visibly. In her ten months as Miranda's assistant Andy had only witnessed such a vibrancy of emotions on the older woman's face once, in Paris, and the fact that now her own actions were the cause for the change from hopeful smiles to blatant sadness stabbed at Andy's chest.

The editor fingered the bracelet and then lifted it from its velvet cushion. She dropped the box on the desk and reached for Andy's right arm.

"Please. I insist."

When Miranda's fingers brushed against her palm Andy felt a multitude of tiny electric shocks travel up her arm and down her spine. The editor clasped the bracelet around her assistant's slim wrist and then looked up at her through lowered lashes.

"Please."

Andy was definitely blushing now. The huskiness in Miranda's voice was killing her, as was their close proximity and the fact that the older woman had just attached a piece of jewellery to Andy's body that was easily worth more than the Manolos and the leather-bound notebook combined. The extremely uncharacteristic use of the word 'please' was the final straw, and she felt herself slip into a state of complete awe.

She couldn't do anything but nod and be captivated by the sparkly eyes that kept gazing at her. The shiny, blue orbs were so dark that Andy could barely make out Miranda's pupils. In fact, it almost looked as if the older woman's eyes were nothing but dark black holes that sucked the brunette in. There was a pink flush to Miranda's cheeks and her lips were relaxed and slightly parted. If Andy didn't know any better, she could have sworn that her boss was drunk.

"Miranda, are you alright?" The brunette surprised herself when all she could manage was a whisper.

"Of course I'm alright..." the editor drawled, wide smile back in place and her head dipping back so she had to gaze at Andy across the slopes of her perfect cheekbones. Andy felt so alive, yet so very trapped at that moment. It suddenly struck her how incredibly breathtaking Miranda was. She had always considered the editor beautiful, but more on a superficial, physical level. However, now, as she witnessed all the walls falling away, and found herself staring at the _woman_ behind the business-warrior facade, Andy realised that the one-way connection she felt with Miranda, that special bond that had filled her with giddiness at the thought of baking for the older woman, was nothing other than _attraction_. She was completely gone on Miranda.

Her cheeks burned, her breath became raspy, and the ground below her feet began to sway. In her mind she grouped together every last emotion the editor had stirred inside her over the past couple of months, and they amounted to a frightening picture of such intensity that Andy felt her knees wobble.

And why was Miranda just staring at her like that, with that grin that made her look like a stoned college student? And when had she moved this close? Andy could feel the heat radiating off the older woman's body, now a mere few inches away. She had to close her eyes at the distinctive trickle of arousal between her legs that had previously been avoided by the sweet bliss of denial.

She had to leave. There was no way she would be able to withstand it any longer. Either she'd suffer a heart attack and die, or she'd grab Miranda with her incredibly sexy smile and push her hard against the wall in an earth-shattering kiss, most likely resulting in her own public decapitation. Either way, death would be imminent.

As fate would have it her escape came in the shape of a loud bang from the outer office and a chorus of shrieks and laughter.

It snapped even Miranda out of her trance and Andy grabbed her chance to move to the door and peek outside. Several clackers populated the area between hers and Emily's desks, some of them leaning against the furniture, and others holding onto their colleagues as their skinny bodies moved with wave after wave of giggles.

"What the heck is going on here?" Andy nearly squeaked, stepping between them and frantically looking around for the other assistant. "And where is Emily?"

There was more laughter and the brunette had to give Lucia her very best glare for the woman to offer an explanation.

"She... she just left..." Lucia pointed to the set of glass doors to her right and Andy noticed the two flat hand prints against the usually immaculately clear surface.

_Oh god... _So the noise she had just heard was Emily colliding with the doors? And what the hell was wrong with the clackers... and with Miranda?

Suddenly it dawned on her. She looked at the empty plate that stood by the kitchen sink, as a wave of terror, followed by nausea swept over her. She was dead. She was so, so dead.

_What the hell did Nate do?_

She pushed through the throng of giggling stick figures and grabbed her phone from her desk, trembling so hard it took three attempts to dial her ex-boyfriend's number. He picked up after the second ring.

"Nate."

"Hey Andy, what's up?"

"You tell me..." she hissed through gritted teeth.

"Where are you? It sounds like a party. I thought you were at work..." The trace of badly hidden amusement in his voice told her that it was an act.

"Nate... last night, when you finished my brownie batter... what did you do?" She turned around and her eyes caught Miranda who leaned against the door frame to her office, gazing back at Andy attentively, but with an unmistakable glow on her face. The brunette covered her face with a sweaty palm. He didn't need to answer. She already knew.

Nate's habit for smoking weed and trying out different space cake recipes had always annoyed her, but she had believed that he'd stopped a while ago. Apparently Nate had been in possession of a large enough stash to spike her brownies and stone up the entire fleet of _Runway_ staff. _Including_ Miranda. That thought, above all, else frightened Andy. She could probably handle being fired and blacklisted... maybe even arrested for possession. But the idea that Miranda's most recent behavior was merely down to drugs tore through Andy's chest and she felt her eyes tear up.

"I will never, ever forgive you for this, Nate," she whispered into the phone.

"Andy... come on... I did it for you. For us." His nasal whine irritated Andy more than ever.

"What the hell are you talking about?" She opened her eyes and looked around, but the clackers were too busy amusing themselves to notice her agitated state. Only Miranda looked at her with something resembling concern, so she turned around to hide her face.

"I thought that if you finally got fired you could move to Boston with me... and we could give us another go."

"There is no 'us', Nate. There hasn't been for quite a while. And if you think I would get back together with you after you ruined my life like this... on my _birthday_..." she couldn't even finish the sentence. There were no words for the betrayal and terror she felt.

"I want you gone, Nate. I never want to see you again."

"But Andy..."

She hung up and carelessly let the phone drop onto her desk. She wanted to just break down there and then, but she couldn't let herself go. Not now. She needed to find the rogue Emily and do damage control. Andy had no idea how she would ever make this right with Miranda and a fresh wave of tears spilled from her eyes and across her cheeks. She defiantly wiped at them and took deep breaths, when a warm hand touched her shoulder.

"Andréa. Come."

With a final, desperate glance toward the ceiling and whichever deity might have rested in the heavens beyond, Andy slowly turned around and followed Miranda back into her office. The door was shut behind them and the brunette shakily prepared herself for the reprimand of a lifetime.

It never came.

Instead she felt warm arms snake around her middle and tightly wrap around her waist, pulling her firmly into the editor's warm body.

"Andréa, please don't be sad."

The voice was so close to her ear that Andy felt Miranda's breath caress her neck. It made her shiver and she automatically tensed in the older woman's embrace.

"I don't like it when you're sad."

Unfortunately hearing Miranda say it, forced more sobs from the brunette, because it was obviously only the drugs speaking. As soon as the older woman could think clearly again she would kick her failure of an assistant out on the street.

Andy was torn between leaning into the embrace and making the most of her newly realised attraction, and stepping away and protecting her heart. Because that, she admitted to herself, was what was at stake here. She shivered and Miranda's thumbs began drawing soothing circles across her belly, while the editor's chin came to rest on Andy's shoulder.

"Hmmm, Andréa."

The editor's voice was so warm and seductive that for a brief moment the brunette wanted nothing more than to believe Miranda genuinely cared about her. She looked down at the beautiful bracelet on her wrist and worried how strong the weed must have been to make the older woman hand out random jewellery. She traced the loosely falling chain and its stones, flipping the bracelet over in the process, and a small engraving in stylish letters caught her eye.

She brought up her wrist to read.

_"For my beautiful Andrea - M."_

A thick lump formed in her throat as the wheels turned in her head. Having this piece of jewellery engraved meant that Miranda had planned for Andy to get this. Her eyes lingered on the word 'beautiful' and her chest filled with a warmth, sweet and thick like maple syrup, as she realised that Miranda had _chosen_ to try her brownies, _before_ she had obviously gotten high from them. It couldn't be... could it?

"Miranda..." Her voice was shaky and she instinctively reached for the arms that still held her tight around her waist. "When did you buy this bracelet?"

"Right after we got back from Paris." The older woman murmured lightly into Andy's hair. "Why?"

Certainly _not_ a result of the 'happy brownies' then. The brunette let out a relieved sigh as the heaviness lifted from her heart. She finally allowed herself to become fully aware of Miranda's body, and how perfectly it fit against hers. Heat rose from her abdomen and set her face ablaze.

Miranda thought she was beautiful. Miranda had willingly tried something she had baked. Miranda was holding her tight and pressing an incredibly soft cheek against Andy's neck.

Then she realised that she hadn't fully thanked the older woman yet for the gift, and she gently disentangled herself from the embrace and turned around to face the editor.

"Thank you."

As she gazed into Miranda's eyes she wondered how she could have overlooked the largely dilated pupils. The older woman looked completely stoned, but Andy absolutely loved the sappy expression on her face. It was nothing short of adorable.

"Thank you, for this beautiful gift, Miranda. I really appreciate it."

The editor's smile widened impossibly more. Her gaze turned a little sheepish and she reached for the brunette's hands.

"I wasn't entirely sure when to give it to you, though. It seems your _friend_'s special ingredient gave me the courage I needed..."

Andy's mood darkened slightly at the mention of Nate, but then she considered the fact that if it weren't for him, Miranda would not be holding her hands right now.

"I'm really sorry about that, Miranda," she said sincerely. "I will take care of your schedule."

The older woman gave a lazy nod and then raised her hand to Andy's face. It was warm and so gentle when it cupped the brunette's cheek and Andy had difficulty holding herself together and not burst into a thousand little pieces of goo. She was aware that Miranda's actions right now were mostly guided by the drugs in her blood stream, but she knew that the editor did care about her in a special way, and that it was not, after all, a one-way bond that she had experienced. That thought gave her courage and she leaned into the touch against her face.

"Andréa..." the older woman almost lulled, and the sound did wonderful things to Andy's body. "When I'm back to... _normal_... I would like to talk..." Miranda practically glowed and their faces were so close to each other that the editor's warm breath tickled across Andy's lips. "Talk about you... and me..." Her thumb caressed over the brunette's cheekbones. "About... us."

Everything inside Andy screamed at her to kiss Miranda. She truly wanted to, and now that she had accepted the exact nature of her attraction, it had become more or less essential to her survival. However she wanted Miranda to kiss her back out of her own free will... and not aided by narcotics. So instead she gazed at the dopey editor and tried to commit her wonderfully relaxed face to memory. She had never seen Miranda this uninhibited and raw, and the overwhelming affection in her heart made it blatantly clear that it wasn't a mere physical bond. She was in love, and had been for a while.

Their eyes had locked in wondrous bliss and Miranda's fingers slid further to hook behind Andy's neck, pulling their faces ever closer at such a glacial pace that the brunette was convinced time itself had actually slowed down.

Suddenly the door burst open and the two women could jump apart just in time before Nigel poked his head into the room.

"Miranda! Andy! Thank goodness you two are alright! What in the name of Dior is going on?"

Andy heard the steady stream of laughter coming from the clackers in the outer office and she cringed as she remembered that a very stoned Emily was still missing in action.

"Nigel! My dear friend!" Miranda said melodiously while throwing up her arms. "Come here and give us a hug!"

"Not you, too!" The bald man looked panicked from the editor to Andy, who all of a sudden felt like crying again.

"Oh, Nigel it's all my fault... it was the brownies! Nate spiked them with weed to get me fired..."

Nigel looked up at the ceiling and raised his palms to his face. Whether it was in desperation or in relief of finally having an explanation for everybody's strange behavior, Andy couldn't say.

"My darling Andréa... I will _never_ fire you..." Miranda half slurred and slithered her arm back around Andy's waist. "You're _mine_..."

The brunette could only shoot a scared look at Nigel and tried to put some distance between her and the older woman, who seemed to get more and more floaty by the minute.

The bald man raised his eyebrows at the scene before him until he finally allowed a small smile.

"Ah, that means, though, that you got yourself a nice new pair of shoes..."

"Nigel, that is _so_ not important right now." The brunette rolled her eyes in exasperation, grabbing Miranda's hand before it could crawl further over her butt. "Can you please stay here and make sure she doesn't hurt herself or does anything inappropriate? I need to reschedule the entire day and then find Emily..."

Her friend and colleague nodded and to her relief he seemed to find the situation rather amusing. Especially when Miranda's other hand began gently stroking up and down Andy's side.

"Uhm... okay... gotta go and do damage control. I'll be back once I've found Emily."

It was hard to leave the editor behind in this state. Andy worried for her safety and she also immediately missed the warmth of her touch.

She grabbed her phone and pushed through the giggly masses into the hallway to find a quiet spot where she could cancel all of Miranda's appointments for the rest of the day. Twenty minutes later she had successfully cleared the editor's entire schedule and she could finally make a call down to the building's security department.

"Hey Jake, it's Andy, from the seventeenth floor. Listen, I was wondering if Emily Charlton has left the building. She's kind of missing and she left her phone up here..."

The security guard knew who she was, which was rare in a large company such as Elias-Clark, but it proved that being nice to everyone you came into contact with paid off in the long run.

"Yes, that sounds like her... wait... she what? Where?"

Panic struck her and she hurriedly set off toward the elevator.

"I'm on my way!"

Andy had no idea what to expect as she sped into the main cafeteria on the tenth floor. It was only nine-thirty in the morning and the kitchen staff was busy preparing the salad bars for the daily storm of Atkins diet fanatics, when there was a high pitched scream from behind the double doors that led into the kitchen area.

Without hesitating the brunette balanced on her heels to spin around, and she dashed into the direction of the raised voices.

"Give. Me. Cheese!" Came Emily's agitated bark.

A group of staff dressed in white aprons stood around the redhead who frantically waved her hands at a confused, young man.

"Emily!" Andy rushed to her side.

"There you are! About bloody time! Tell these people that I must have cheese!"

Offering her most charming and apologetic smile to the staff, Andy grabbed Emily by the elbow and tried to pull her away.

"Let go of me! I'm _starving_! I need to eat some _cheese_!"

Andy whispered to one of the kitchen workers, "Do you guys have no cheese at all?"

The woman shrugged. "The dairy truck hasn't arrived yet and we're out of fresh produce. We might have some packaged cheddar in storage, though..."

"Oh please go and check. You see... she's taken too many painkillers on an empty stomach..." the brunette smiled as sweetly as possible in an attempt to rouse some compassion.

"Alright... I'll see what I can do..."

"Thank you," she turned around. "Emily... Emily?"

The redhead was nowhere to be found.

"Oh god, where did she go?" She asked with such panic that the younger man, whom Emily had harassed earlier, shrunk back.

"I just mentioned the pre-Superbowl party at _Auto Universe_ and she stormed off like a total maniac."

_Great! Just great!_ Her twenty-fifth birthday was turning into a complete and utter satire. Andy knew that the _Runway_ staff, especially the skinny clackers already had a certain reputation for craziness in the rest of the building. She didn't need Emily to stumble through every single publication and confirm the image of the food-crazed, skeletal zombies.

She couldn't arrive at _Auto Universe_ fast enough. In the elevator she managed a quick call to Serena, Emily's closest friend at _Runway_, and luckily one of the few people who hadn't come by for a piece of brownie earlier. The tall Brazilian met Andy in front of the car magazine offices and together they hurried inside.

Unlike _Runway_ this publication consisted of the typical cubicle set-up, with one large area of tables in the middle of the room, which was now filled with an array of food and soft drinks. The _Auto Universe_ staff had gathered in a half circle and were all staring in muted fascination at the redhead who had just climbed up on the table in the centre.

"Emily!" Serena called out, her voice unsteady with complete surprise and a trace of worry. "Get down from there."

The redhead didn't seem to hear and crawled up to the ridiculously large fountain of cheese dip. In front of the traditional Superbowl snack she sat back on her knees and stared in fascination at the steady stream of thick, processed cheese as it cascaded down into the wide, round dish.

To Andy's horror Emily then tentatively held out a hand and placed her index finger under the sunny yellow liquid before carefully bringing it back to her lips.

Emily's cheeks began to glow and the brunette recognized the dreamy, utterly stoned expression from Miranda's face earlier, except the editor had looked at Andy and not at a fountain of spicy nacho cheese.

"This is sooooo good..." the redhead drawled as she leaned forward on her hands and extended her tongue.

"Stop that, Emily," Serena called out, but her voice was drowned out by the sudden cheer and cat calls by the men aroundthem. To Andy's relief it was the Brazilian who moved toward the table to help her friend. The brunette wasn't sure she could handle another amorous lady today, even when the affection was directed at cheese instead of her this time.

She cringed as Emily began lapping up the American cheddar flavoured dip, making soft mewing sounds with each flick of her tongue. She leaned even further and the runny cheese dripped over chin and left sticky trails as it made its way down her throat.

Now there was a definite moan coming from Emily and the small crowd of men howled with laughter and called out words of encouragement when Serena knelt beside her friend and attempted to pull the redhead away.

"Em, let's go. Come on."

"Ahh... Serena..." Emily moaned again and wrapped one arm around her friend in order to steady herself as she leaned forward once more, allowing the cheese to coat half her face.

"Emily!"

Andy could no longer watch and sped forward.

"Emily, stop it! That's not even real cheese. It's processed garbage, full of sodium and trans fat. It will bloat you up until you look like _me_."

That worked perfectly and snapped the redhead right out of her cheese make-out session.

She looked utterly ridiculous, thick yellow dip running down from the tip of her nose, chin and cheeks completely coated, and the brunette handed Serena a stack of napkins. While the blonde proceeded to gently wipe the cheese from her friend's face, Andy turned around to their audience.

"Okay, show is over boys." She was incredibly relieved that ten months ago she chose _Runway_ over _Auto Universe_. The thought of nearly having ended up with a bunch on immature guys instead of by Miranda's side made her feel queasy.

"Come on, Em. Let's get you home."

Andy was endeared by the sweetness in Serena's voice and she helped the two women down from the large table, and accompanied by a few disappointed hollers the trio left for the elevators.

"I'm taking her to my apartment where she can stay until the drug wears off," Serena said while gently holding a suddenly rather docile Emily up by the waist.

"Okay. I'll go tell Miranda."

Serena nodded and then pulled the redhead into the elevator.

"Hmmm... S'rena... you smell like cheese..." was the last thing Andy heard before the doors slid shut.

She wanted to scream at the utter ridiculousness of the day. She wanted to kill Nate. Most importantly she wanted to get back to Miranda.

When she arrived back at _Runway_ it was eerily quiet. Andy truly worried as she stepped through the glass doors and there was no sign of any of the stoned clackers.

"I sent them home," Nigel explained coming out of Miranda's office. "Since they didn't _smoke_ the weed, but _ate_ it, there is no way they'll be back in working order before the day is over."

The brunette's shoulder slumped.

"Oh god, Nigel. I can't believe I cost the magazine an entire day of work! If we run behind on the next issue I'll never forgive myself..." She was too distraught over that to even cry.

"Six, it'll be alright. Miranda is more relaxed today than I've ever seen her. Just like the rest of the staff." He gazed at her. "Well, except you, maybe."

Andy snorted helplessly.

"Sometimes people need a small break to be able to continue on more efficiently. We were all running low on energy and motivation lately. This little _adventure_ might do more good than harm in the long run." He smiled warmly.

"Oh god, I really hope so." Andy meant that in more regards than one. She desperately clung to the idea of having some kind of... _something_... with Miranda after this day was over.

"Andréa," the editor's soft voice beckoned from the inner office.

"Go and take her home, Six. We can't risk Irv coming down and seeing her like this, especially if he finds out half the staff has been dismissed for the day. I will take care of everything else."

The brunette mumbled her thanks and stiffly began gathering her things.

"Hey," his hand was soothing when it grasped her shoulder. "It'll be alright. Don't worry your pretty little head too much. I've known Miranda for over a decade and I know when she's genuine. This is one of those rare moments."

"Thank you, Nigel."

He smiled warmly, nodded and then left through the glass doors.

"Andréa?"

Just like that every single nerve ending in her body tingled with delicious anticipation. She turned around to find Miranda leaning against the door frame, gazing at Andy through lowered lashes; gooey smile still in place. The sight caused the younger woman's heart to leap and she couldn't help a grin from spreading on her own lips in response.

"Are you ready to go?"

Andy had always liked the different tones of Miranda's voice, but the uninhibited, smiley variety quickly grew to become her favourite.

"Yes. Let me just phone Roy."

She made a quick call to the editor's driver and a few moments later found herself shoulder to shoulder with the older woman in the elevator, on their way down to the lobby. Miranda had donned her trademark sunglasses so nobody would be able to see her eyes. Andy still worried, though, that the unnaturally blissful facial expression on the 'Snow Queen' would give everything away. It didn't help that Miranda's random little giggles made the brunette laugh as well, which in returned fueled the older woman's amusement even more.

"Miranda, you need to stop grinning like that for just a short moment until we're in the car, alright? Can you do that?"

The editor quirked one of her brows in a way that told Andy her challenge had been accepted, and when the doors slid open Miranda proceeded to waltz through the lobby with her usual air of elegant superiority.

Roy held the car door ajar for the older woman to slide into the back seat, and Andy hurried around the back of the vehicle to slip in on the other side. Miranda's face remained stern until the driver had taken his position behind the steering wheel and as soon as they pulled into traffic the editor suddenly burst.

Her laugh was so rich and sincere that Andy felt her toes curl from delight. Miranda was so incredibly beautiful at that moment, it threatened to break the younger woman's heart. The editor turned to lean her forehead against Andy's shoulder as her laughter transformed into little hushed giggles. It was so contagious that Andy couldn't keep a straight face, even for Roy's sake, and she joined in the laughter.

Miranda took off her sunglasses and buried her face fully in the crook of Andy's neck while grabbing at the younger woman's coat to pull her closer. Slowly their giggles stilled and they remained together in silence, ignoring the curious glances the driver shot them through the rear-view mirror. Miranda's breath was hot against the brunette's throat and now that the barrier of laughter was gone Andy became acutely away of how the older woman's arm pressed into her chest.

"Hmmm... you smell so nice, Andréa," the editor whispered and her lips brushed ever so lightly against Andy's skin.

The younger woman felt herself be lifted up by the earlier wave of arousal and she had to try very hard to regulate her breathing. Waiting out Miranda's rush was going to be the hardest thing she ever had to do, but she simply could not take the risk of letting herself go, only to later find out that Miranda didn't really want her the same way she wanted the editor. Andy knew too little about the exact effect of weed to be certain about the older woman's intentions.

It was obvious Miranda cared about her in a way beyond a simple work relationship, but to figure out the precise nature of the older woman's feelings, they would have to talk once the giddiness from the brownies had worn off. Gentle fingers stroked along the nape of Andy's neck and she closed her eyes and attempted to simply bask in the here and now.

Miranda was warm and soft against her and she smelled heavenly. Andy brought up her arms and wrapped the editor into a gentle embrace, which was rewarded with a purr and the wonderful sensation of Miranda nuzzling further into Andy's neck.

As luck had it, the street in front of the townhouse was empty, probably because it wasn't even noon yet, and they could slip into Miranda's home without anybody spying the inappropriately small distance between them. Andy hung up their coats in the downstairs closet and turned to take the older woman's bag, only to find Miranda up a few steps of the stairs, looking down at her with such an openly dreamy expression it twisted the brunette's heart and caused her lungs to burn. Glassy eyes pierced into her expectantly as Miranda held out her hand.

"Come, Andréa."

Andy stopped at the bottom of the stairs.

"Uhm... I'm not sure that would be such a good idea, Miranda..."

She gulped when the editor's gaze regained some of its typical iciness, but quickly Miranda's face softened again and she slowly stepped down to the bottom step. This put her a few inches above Andy and the brunette looked up at the older woman through thick, long lashes.

"You're so beautiful, Andréa..."

It wasn't said in the same lustful drawl as earlier, and Andy felt her chest ache at the blatant affection shining through Miranda's dilated pupils. The editor raised her hands to tenderly cup the younger woman's cheeks and then pulled their foreheads together before whispering, "Please come sit with me. I promise I will behave..."

"Okay," slipped from Andy's lips rather easily and she allowed Miranda to pull her by the hand and up the stairs, toward the sitting area on the second floor. Once seated Miranda slid off her heels and indicated for Andy to do the same, before tucking her legs under herself and leaning against the younger woman.

Out of nowhere she began to giggle again and the brunette readily joined in.

"Happy Birthday," Miranda whispered softly between chuckles and slid her hand into Andy's.

"You know..." the younger woman murmured, "it's really not fair that it's my special day today, and I spent half of it anxious and terrified, whereas the rest of you people had an awesome time."

"Awww..." It sounded so strange coming from Miranda, but Andy melted just the same. "Poor Andréa... come here, I will make you feel... _awesome_."

The older woman giggled again and slung her arms around the brunette, hugging her close.

_Yes, that does feel pretty awesome_, Andy had to silently admit at the sensation of Miranda's breasts pressing into her side. She relaxed in the embrace, letting her guard down completely and simply enjoying being held by the editor. Miranda moved them to the side, so she could rest against the arm of the couch, and pulled the brunette closer against herself.

Andy felt exhaustion take over. It had been an incredibly stressful morning for her, and she already hadn't slept enough to begin with. Miranda was soft underneath her and the younger woman slowly drifted into slumber while the editor drew warm circles with her palm across Andy's back. Every now and then a small giggle would ripple through Miranda's chest and throat, briefly rousing Andy from her dreamless state before she fell back asleep.

When she woke she found herself alone and under a thick angora blanket, and it took a while for Andy to remember where she was. _Oh right, pot brownies... mayhem at the office... and warm, soft Miranda..._

She grinned and sat up to stretch while taking a look around. She wondered where Miranda had gone off to and whether the drugs would have worn off by now. Andy had no clue what time it was and when she found the wall clock it took her by surprise. _Nearly five in the afternoon!_ There was a slight panic at the thought of Miranda being her old self again and tossing Andy out on the street, but a gentle voice soothingly curled around her from behind as the older woman walked up with two large cups of coffee.

"Hello there, Sleepyhead."

The younger woman saw that Miranda's eyes were back to normal and some of the tension had returned to her face as she handed the brunette one of the cups and sat down beside her.

"Hi..." Andy looked sheepishly down at the cup, "how are you feeling?"

Miranda didn't answer right away and the younger woman peeked up from under lowered lashes to see a soft tinge of pink on the editor's cheeks. It was almost as if Miranda was somehow embarrassed.

"I feel... _shy_."

The brunette had to still the cup where it had just been about to meet a her lips. Had Miranda just said 'shy'?

"I feel like I have made a fool of myself," the editor explained.

Andy set the cup onto the end table and quickly grabbed hold of Miranda's empty hand.

"Oh, no! You didn't! If anyone is a fool, it's me and my stupidity!" She squeezed the nervous fingers in her grasp for emphasis. "If it weren't for me, none of this would have happened."

Miranda looked down at their joined hands and to the delicate jewellery on Andy's wrist, and a tentative smile, a mere echo of the intoxicated grin from earlier, sneaked onto her lips.

"Well, I'm glad that it did." She looked back up into Andy's eyes and the younger woman recognised hints of the look of affection from earlier. "Otherwise I would still brood away in my office, debating endlessly _how_, and _when_ I should give you that bracelet and reveal my... feelings..."

She blushed more at the last word.

"Your _feelings_..." Andy repeated in a whisper, cheeks twitching from a careful smile.

The older woman nodded and the brunette was overwhelmed by the urge to pull Miranda toward her. She took hold of the editor's cup and placed it next to her own on the little side table, before gazing back into shiny, blue eyes.

"Feelings of... friendship?"

She _had_ to test the waters. If she misinterpreted anything now, it would surely kill her.

Miranda snorted and rolled her eyes.

"Really, Andréa... I thought your 'special brownies' have helped to make it obvious that I feel a lot more for you than mere _friendship_."

Pure happiness bubbled up inside Andy and she found herself grinning as if she had eaten the whole batch of pot brownies herself. The older woman began to fidget and Andy realised that she had not yet given the editor any indication as to how she felt about this situation. A previously unknown boldness took hold of her and she reclaimed the editor's hand, conveying nothing but sincerity through her eyes.

"Miranda, I think I've had feelings for you for months... I just didn't recognise them for what they truly are... until this morning."

The editor's eyes lit up and her lips softly parted as the revelation hit her. It was almost as if she had eaten another piece of Andy's brownies, but this time the brunette knew for sure it was real. They gazed at each other, eyes flicking down to moistened lips, and simultaneously they leaned across the small distance between them until their noses brushed, and their mouths met in the softest touch.

Eager fingers quickly found the back of Andy's neck and pulled her closer and their kiss changed from gentle nibbles and caresses, to more thoroughly locked lips and the eventual dance of tongues that sent wave after wave of arousal down between the younger woman's thighs. The throaty hums Miranda released encouraged Andy and she sucked greedily on the older woman's bottom lip.

Their bodies pressed flush together and the brunette realised that Miranda's earlier, drug-induced fondling had been light and innocent compared to the eagerness with which the editor now grabbed at her. They fell back against the cushions and Miranda managed to slide her hands under the younger woman's shirt and dragged her nails across Andy's smooth back.

"Hmmm... Miranda..."

Andy pulled away enough to catch her breath and they lay together, chests heaving in unison. She looked down at the beautiful woman and found that the radiant, lazy glow had returned to Miranda's face, but this time the drug hadn't come in the shape of little, chewy, chocolaty squares, but in form of Andy herself.

"Tell me, Andréa..." the older woman drawled sweetly, "what on earth possessed you to bring brownies to the office in the first place? If it had been anyone else, I would have fired them."

The brunette felt her cheeks burn as she mumbled, "Nigel dared me for those blood red Manolo Blahnik pumps that came in last week."

Miranda cocked her head in disbelief. "_Excuse me_? Nigel would give away two-thousand-dollar shoes, just to make you bring in carbohydrate-laden food?"

"Uhm," Andy shyly gazed at the older woman through lowered lashes, "actually the real challenge was to get you to eat one..."

"Oh." The editor briefly processed that information. "Well, it's a good thing, then, that you looked so sickeningly adorable holding up that plate of homemade baked goods that I simply couldn't resist..."

Andy broke out in another silly grin and nodded, before burying her face in the crook of Miranda's neck.

"Risking your job for a pair of shoes..." the editor murmured into the younger woman's hair. "I have taught you well..."

They giggled together and Andy hugged Miranda tight, enjoying the feeling of the laughter travelling through both their chests.

"I can't wait for you to teach me even more..." and with that she sought out the older woman's lips again and began enjoying the rest of her incredible birthday.

**_The End_**


End file.
